


Dragons and Heartstrings

by Pureblood_Muggle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Not Epilogue Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-01-22 21:30:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21308906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pureblood_Muggle/pseuds/Pureblood_Muggle
Summary: Hermione thought she had a good thing going. A nice boyfriend and finally a way to get Gringott's to not use a dragon anymore. She should've known it was too good to be true.Written for the Pumpkin & Ginger Weasley Fest 2019
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Charlie Weasley
Comments: 62
Kudos: 244
Collections: Pumpkin & Ginger Fall Fest





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Pumpkin & Ginger Weasley Fest 2019  
My prompt: Who do you call when you have a temperamental dragon and a broken heart?
> 
> Thank you Mandi7623 for lending an extra pair of eyes to whip this into shape! Any remaining errors belong to me :)  
Also, thank you to Frumpologist for another of her amazing aesthetics!!

Hermione stared at her supervisor in disbelief and irritably swiped a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You cannot be serious!” she all but shouted, respect for authority be damned.

“You’ve made your bed, Granger. Now lie in it, and mind it doesn’t catch fire.” Gethsemane Prickle lived up to her prickly name, clearly still irritated that Hermione had gone ahead with a proposal without her clearance - straight over the department head’s, well, head. 

The older woman sniffed and turned on her heel, leaving Hermione to stew in her self-made mess. She’d thought she had considered everything there was to consider. Except that she would need her department head’s support to actually carry it out. Hermione felt like a prize idiot for having thought Prickle would simply agree without so much as a raised eyebrow. 

At least it was Friday and her week was nearly over. She thought herself lucky that way until she realised that - weekend or no - she wouldn’t actually have time off until this situation was dealt with. When would she finally get a _ break _!

Her last two weeks had been nothing short of horrible. Daniel Carter, an Auror colleague of Harry’s, and Hermione’s boyfriend of 8 months had broken up with her. She hadn’t even seen it coming. In hindsight, she was blind to it all: the excuses why they couldn’t meet, why he wouldn’t stay over, outright lies about being away on missions when she heard from Harry the next day that he’d been out with the lads. 

When she’d confronted him on Monday evening, he finally confessed it all. Daniel told her that he was sorry, that he’d never meant to hurt her, but that he’d gone and fallen in love with somebody else. It had taken all her willpower not to hex him into the next week. 

Tuesday morning, she’d come into the office after a sleepless night in which she’d cried herself hoarse. Hermione was incredibly thankful that she was indeed a witch and had glamour charms at her disposal. At least at work, she could pretend that she wasn’t a mess.

She threw herself into her work and finished the proposal to release the dragon Gringott’s bank still insisted on keeping chained in their undercrofts. Pleased with herself, and knowing that Prickle was busy, she’d decided to make a heartfelt plea to Kingsley Shacklebolt the Minister of Magic, to sign a decree to release the beast. Hermione had meticulously studied up on Goblins and knew she had a tight case. After all, Goblins had other magic at their fingertips that served the same purpose.

It came as no surprise then, that Kingsley did indeed received her, though it took until Tuesday of this week for him to do so. After reading through everything she’d brought, he signed off on it with a flourish.

She’d been so proud to have accomplished so much in such a short time - until this morning when Prickle turned prickly after she heard that Hermione had acted alone and gone behind her back.

Hermione bit her lip to stop herself from crying right there in the middle of the open-plan office floor. Taking a deep breath in through her nose and slowly letting it out through her mouth, she considered her options.

The dragon she wanted to free was being released by Gringotts tonight at 6pm on the dot. The Goblins had reacted hostile at the summons from the Ministry and decided to play exactly to rule. This meant at the close of business that day, they would relinquish their dragon and hand over any and all responsibility to the Ministry’s Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures - in other words, to Hermione. 

Hermione needed help. A fully grown Ironbelly wasn’t a stray dog to take home for the weekend. She would need an adequate holding pen, specific feed, and definitely more manpower than just herself. Glancing at her clock, she only just stopped herself from voicing a pathetic whimper. It was 12.30pm. Time was ticking.

***

Hermione forewent lunch in favour of securing permission for a Ministry-funded international Floo call to Romania, hoping to find a sympathetic face in the form of Charlie Weasley to give her advice. By 2pm, she was not only hungry but also frustrated to the nth degree because her application was still being considered, after twice having been returned to her because some intern had given her the wrong forms to fill in. 

She wondered if she was doing the right thing contacting Charlie. After all, there were other Dragonologists she could just as easily, or maybe even easier, call on. None of those was familiar though, merely names of strangers in the database of the department. No, she needed Charlie for his expertise and, she admitted to herself, she also needed a friendly face who wouldn’t make her feel worse than she already did. Hermione knew Charlie disapproved of Gringott’s practices. In that regard, at least, she knew he would support her. How he would do that from so far away, she couldn’t say.

When, at 2.39pm, she finally got permission for her international Floo call to the Reserve in the cave-riddled, mountainous National Park relatively near the city of Cluj-Napoca in Transylvania, she could’ve cried with relief. 

The relief, however, was short-lived. A woman by the name of Adriana greeted her once the Floo connected. She had a friendly face and a friendly voice, yet the information that Charlie was not, in fact, in Romania at all made Hermione’s heart sink. 

“I don’t suppose you would know how to contact him?”

“I believe he’s visiting his family in England. Could another handler help you with your query?”

Hermione closed her eyes briefly, wondering what to do. Should she request another handler to help? She didn’t have the time to go through another application for a second international call. No, she’d go to the Burrow and hope the woman was correct in that he was visiting his family.

“Thank you, but no. I do need to speak to Mr Weasley.” She smiled at the woman but didn’t miss the puzzled look on her face when she quickly bid her goodbye.

Hermione pulled her head out of the fire and sat back on her heels, rubbing her hands over her face. Aware that she was quickly running out of time, she came to her feet and held onto the mantelpiece in order to keep from falling over. She’d stood up too fast and become a bit dizzy. 

Once the room stopped spinning, she grabbed her coat and bag with all relevant documents and rushed to the Apparition point in the Ministry’s Atrium. The lift had never taken as long. She’d wondered what deity, in particular, she’d pissed off so much that the lifts stopped at every level, after even going into the wrong direction at first. 

Once she arrived at the Apparition point, she didn’t lose any time. She stepped into the designated space, more determined than in a long time, and turned.

Hermione all but ran down the garden path to the Burrow’s kitchen entrance. Giving a perfunctory knock, she opened the door without waiting for an answer and calling out for the woman she’d long since considered her own second mother.

“Molly!”

The kitchen was empty so Hermione rushed across to the living room only to run into something solid in the doorway. The impact winded her with an audible ‘oomph’. She heard a deep chuckle.

“You’re in a hurry. Where’s the fire, Hermione?” 

She looked up to find an amused Charlie looking down at her with twinkling blue eyes. Hermione was so relieved to see him, she flung her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. Charlie hugged her back and didn’t let her go fully when she pulled away. He eyed her face carefully. 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she laughed and extracted herself to move to the kitchen table where she began to take the file out of her bag. “I need you, Charlie.”

“I’m flattered, sweetheart, but I thought you were dating someone?” He grinned at her as she looked up, blushing, and rolling her eyes. He really was an incorrigible flirt.

“I need you for work, Charles,” she huffed. “And I’m not dating anyone.” She mumbled the last to the table, wishing she wasn’t reminded of that right now. 

“I see.” The amusement was gone from his voice but thankfully he dropped the subject. “I presume you've got a project involving a dragon?”

“I do. Here.” Hermione handed him the file, Gringott’s statement topmost for him to read. She figured that was the important part, Charlie didn’t need to know just how she’d gotten to the result. He read through it and then glanced up at her, a low whistle on his lips. 

“Today at 6 o’clock?” She nodded. “Hermione, that’s,” he checked his watch, “less than 3 hours away!” She winced and screwed her face up.

“I know. I didn’t mean for it to happen like this, it’s all gone wrong! I will have a frightened, angry, fire-breathing lizard on my hands and had no time to make provisions on where to keep it. I had hoped once the goblins agreed, I could check with the reserve in Romania or even the smaller one in Wales. I didn’t expect them to release the dragon like this!” She sat down heavily on a chair, her elbows on the table and her head in her hands. “This has all gone wrong somewhere!”

“Merlin, Hermione, take a breath.” He put the file down on the table and took a seat on a chair next to hers. “The reserve in Wales is your only option in this time frame. I know a few people there. Hopefully, they’re on duty today. We’ll need more than just the two of us to move a grown Ironbelly. Let’s hope they’ve got space.” 

He got up and walked into the Burrow’s small living room. Hermione took a few long breaths to calm herself before she followed him. She found Charlie already on his knees in front of the fire and speaking to someone at the Welsh reserve. Hermione barely had time to sit in the armchair next to the fireplace when he was standing up again. She followed suit.

“You’re in luck! Jeremy’s on duty and he’s putting a small team together.”

“Really? That’s wonderful! Thank you so much!” Hermione’s shoulders sagged as relief swept through her. The dragon would not be let loose by itself after all.

“Hey now, none of that. C’mere.” 

Hermione found herself enveloped in a pair of strong arms. She hadn’t even realised that she was crying until Charlie was holding her and a sob escaped her mouth. For a long moment, they stayed like that: his hands rubbing soothing motions over her back and her hands tightly holding on to his shirt while her face was buried in his chest, tugged under his chin. She didn’t even know why she was crying. 

When Hermione managed to get herself back in control, she pulled back, her face flushed from embarrassment and splotched from crying. 

“I’m so sorry, Charlie.” She wiped her eyes with her sleeves. “I don’t know what came over me.” Hermione tried to smile at him but it was merely a wobbly lip movement. Then she noticed the wet blotches on the front of his blue shirt and she closed her eyes, mortified. 

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for. See?” She blinked her eyes open to see him holding his wand, his shirt dried and free of stains. He sent her a small grin. “It’s magic.” And a wink. Hermione couldn’t help the small answering grin that formed on her own lips.

“Now,” he continued, “We really have to get going. Jeremy said he and his team will meet us at Gringotts just before 6. We’ve roughly 2 hours before then. So, now we’ll apparate to Wales and get the holding pen ready.” Hermione nodded and took a deep breath.

“Okay.” She nodded again. “Okay.” She grabbed her files, shoved them into her bag, donned her coat and looked back at Charlie. “Alright, so, I’ve no idea how to do any of that.” Charlie barked a laugh at that.

“Good thing you’ve got me with you.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “Come on, Granger, let’s get your dragon set up.” He squeezed her and kept her close, leading her to the point just past the wards, then took her hand to side-along her to Wales.

***

“Charlie!” A tall, blond wizard greeted him as they arrived at the reserves gates, a short distance from the Apparition point. They embraced, clapping each other's backs. “You’re a sight for sore eyes!”

“Get used to it,” he replied, laughing. “This here is Hermione. Hermione, this is Jeremy.” 

“Nice to meet you, Hermione.” Jeremy shook her hand. “I’d wondered when he’d bring a girl home that isn’t a dragon species.” He winked at her and she chuckled. 

“Nice to meet you, too, Jeremy. Thank you so much for helping me out. You’ve no idea how relieved I am. I’ll owe you a big favour.” Jeremy nodded but before he could reply, Charlie spoke up.

“Which pen will be hers?”

“Hermione’s?” Jeremy grinned. “C’mon then, I’ll show you. You are lucky it became available. There’s just been a Swedish Shortsnout that’s been relocated back to Sweden yesterday. We were full. Meant to take another in at the weekend but I’ve managed to redirect that one to Scotland to the small colony in the Hebrides. We’ve health checked that one - it’s coming from an illegal dealer in Germany who got himself a little bit singed by the Hebridean Black. Couldn’t handle the heat and turned himself in.” 

There wasn’t much amusement in Jeremy’s voice. He shared a dark look with Charlie. 

“I’ve come across egg dealers at work, not fully grown dragons,” Hermione said. “That must be an exception, surely?”

“You’d be surprised,” Charlie answered. “You can’t use eggs to sell potion ingredients on the black market. Dragon scales, dragon teeth, dragon heartstrings, dragonhide… all marketed as valuable miracle cures on their own - often labelled as something different, sometimes even sold to Muggles as miracle cures. Often they don’t even have the decency to kill the beast first.” 

Hermione felt sick listening to that. “That’s horrific.” She’d heard some stories of course, but she hoped it was merely that, stories of the past. Which her limited contact with the dragon section had indicated. Clearly, she was wrong.

“It is. Some people are disgusting. Here we are, your darling Ironbelly’s new home until we can hopefully rehabilitate her. Although I have a feeling she’ll be going to Romania to the permanent hold once she’s fit enough and had a health check.”

Hermione thought back to the one she, Ron, and Harry had freed when they’d broken into the bank. “She was blind.”

“What was that?” Charlie asked, his eyes roaming the large pen that, to Hermione, looked like a zoo enclosure. 

“The dragon we rode out of Gringott’s during the war. She was blind. What if this one is, too?”

“That’s a likely scenario. In that case, she’ll definitely stay in captivity for life as she wouldn’t be able to hunt accurately enough. She’d go for anything she senses, human or not.”

“Whatever happened to that one, I wonder?”

“She was found dead in Scotland,” Jeremy said quietly. “She was weak and quite old. We think poachers got her. That, or some Death Eaters maybe, practising their killing curses on her.”

Hermione screwed her face up in a mix of disgust at what she was hearing, and guilt for having brought that kind of end to the poor dragon. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. At least she could stretch her wings, yeah?” Jeremy gave her an encouraging smile. “And now look what you’re doing. Saving another.”

“Yeah.” She nodded and inhaled deeply. “So, what can I do to help?” 

“Put your wand away, and let us do the work. I’d teach you but we haven’t the time. Come on, Charlie, this won’t ward itself.”

For the next half an hour, she watched Charlie and Jeremy walk around the enclosure, putting wards in place, and sending clearing spells into corners, filling water trenches and placing meat that looked like a skinned sheep into a feeding area. 

The rest of the team came by to confirm that all was going to plan and introduced themselves to Hermione. Then, Charlie took her aside. He put his hands on her shoulders and ducked his head to be level with her. His blue eyes were locked on her brown ones.

“Right, you ready, love?” Hermione bit her lip, nodding. “Good, because any other answer would’ve been unacceptable. Now. We’re going to go over to Gringott’s. We’re going to be _ nice _ and speak to the Goblin in charge. There’s a back entrance to the building where they take delivery of large cash sums, objects, and you bet this dragon. We will be setting up the crate in that courtyard. Now, listen closely.” 

Hermione nodded again. “Good. There are only 5 of us, plus you. I know you know how to cast a stunning spell, but do you know where to aim with a dragon?” She shook her head. “You aim right below her wings. All six of us will, together. Remember this will not hurt the dragon. She’ll do a lot more damage to us than we could to her with stunners. But she needs to be out to be transported. Yes?”

“Yes. I can do that.” 

“Good. I want your word that you will follow instructions to the letter. Even if we tell you to disapparate. You will disapparate back here. We will then deal with the dragon without you. Understood?”

“Yes.” She gritted her teeth, feeling chastised like a child. 

“I need you to be safe, Hermione.” She looked away, nodding. It seemed to her that she was doing a lot of that lately. 

“C’mere.” Charlie’s arms went around her for a tight hug. “It’ll all be okay. You’ll see,” he murmured into her ear. Goosebumps raced down her arm.

“Oi! Enough canoodling you two. Keep your celebration shag for after,” Jeremy shouted as he passed, his team chuckling. 

Hermione felt her face heat as Charlie called back, “You’re just jealous because I have the pretty witch in my arms!” She swatted at him but laughed along anyway.

Together, the group made their way to the apparition point, a large crate levitating before them.

“How are they going to apparate with that?” Hermione asked, indicating the crate with her chin. 

“Oh, they won’t. We’ve special portkeys for the use with these. Two of us will apparate ahead and clear the area so there’s space, then the others will follow by portkey and bring the crate.”

“Mhmm, makes sense.”

“Nervous?” He sent her a sidelong glance. 

“Yeah.” Hermione watched her shoes as she walked back past the reserves wards. “I wish I could say I wasn’t. I don’t do well when I’m not in control and I’ve not been so lacking in knowledge since… since… I don’t even know. I feel like a complete idiot for this. Clearly, Skeeter will have to change her nickname for me.” 

“You’re anything but an idiot, Hermione. C’mon, nearly there.” He took her hand and pulled her along. The small gesture gave her the courage she desperately needed. 

It was decided that both she and Charlie would go ahead to clear the area and speak to the Goblin in charge since Hermione was the responsible person on all the paperwork. They would have fifteen minutes to do what they needed to do.

Charlie side-alonged her to a small side alley off Diagon. She hadn’t even known it existed. As she looked around, trying to find her bearings, he explained that Bill had shown him. Employee entrances were off here, as well as deliveries. 

“Speak of the devil,” Charlie smirked. Hermione turned to see Bill striding towards them. He did not look amused.

“Hermione. What’s going on? Gringott’s is in uproar.” She winced. “Are we actually releasing the dragon?” 

“Yes.” She handed the agreement to Bill. He scanned it quickly. 

“No wonder the Goblins are in a mood. They’re not happy with this at all. No fun at work today. Goblins are not easy to negotiate with. I thought you’d learned your lesson from last time with Griphook.”

“Well, so did I. Turns out, I was wrong.” Hermione was annoyed enough with herself, she really didn’t need Bill telling her that she fucked up. She’d heard that enough from Prickle already.

“Come on, Bill lay off her. We’re dealing with the dragon. She’s been under enough pressure. No need for this, it won’t help anyone and we’ve no time to argue.” He put his hand on her lower back and steered her to the courtyard they’d be using. 

“Thanks,” she mumbled to him, wondering how she’d ever repay him for his kindness and help. He hummed in response and set about clearing the area while Bill went to check on the dragon status for her. Another thing taken out of her hands. Out of her control. She didn’t like that feeling one bit. 

Charlie included her in his work, giving her instructions and she followed them to the letter, determined to get her equilibrium back and get _ something _ right today. 

Just after they’d finished and the team arrived with the crate, Bill reappeared with a Goblin by his side. Hermione swallowed and approached with what she hoped was a friendly expression on her face. 

“Good evening. Hermione Granger,” she said, holding out her hand for the Goblin to shake. He stared at the hand and kept his hand to himself without bothering to introduce himself in return.

“The dragon releases as agreed,” he said and turned to walk away back into the building. Hermione stared after him.

“They’re bringing it out, right?” she wondered out loud. 

“Yes,” Bill replied. “I think I can hear them.” He turned to Charlie and the team, waiting by the crate. “Do you guys need an extra wand?”

“Can’t hurt, you know how?” Jeremy asked.

“Yeah. On your count, then?” 

“Aye. On my count. Here they come.”

Hermione drew her wand and focused on the large doors before her. The sound of the clangers increased with every heartbeat. Anxiety swirled around her insides, her pulse in her throat, her breathing shaky. 

“Alright, sweetheart?” Charlie muttered to her. She nodded, unwilling to look away from the doors. “Good. Remember, on Jer’s count and follow all instructions. Aim for the front underside of her wings. You’ve got this.”

The team moved apart, spanning the courtyard, standing ready in wait, wands raised. The double doors burst open and Hermione, even knowing what was coming, couldn’t help the gasp escaping. The Ukrainian Ironbelly preceded a pair of clanging Goblins, her pearlescent grey scales glistening in the sunlight, its deep red eyes blinking. It was easily as tall as a double-decker bus, only longer and wider.

Jeremy immediately began counting down from three. As he shouted, “Now!”, the dragon had cleared the threshold and the clangers stopped, doors slamming shut behind it. 

Seven different voices rang out. “_ Stupefy!” _

“Again!” Jeremy prompted. They immediately cast again, the Ironbelly slumping to the ground with a huff that sent a twenty-foot flame directly at Hermione, missing her by barely ten inches. She could feel the heat and swore some of her hair was singed. She couldn’t move, barely draw breath, frozen in place, her heart hammering. 

“Hermione, you have to move. Come on.” It was Bill who steered her to the side this time. She shook herself out of her stupor, watching the team’s combined effort to levitate the dragon into the crate and sealing it for transport. Once it was done. The same team members who brought the crate saluted her and disappeared in a swirl of the portkey. 

Charlie walked over to her and his brother, an easy grin on his face. “You ready to put her to bed in her new place?” 

“Yes.” She nodded, suddenly cold. A shiver ran down her body and her hand trembled a little. Hermione swapped her wand to her other hand and shook the trembling limb out.

“Been a while since your last adrenaline rush, hm?” Bill observed with a small smile. “Go now before you completely come down from it. You’ll be exhausted tonight.” 

“Thanks, Bill. I’m sorry I made things complicated for you at work. I really should’ve known better.” She shivered again and Charlie pulled her into him. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Bill eyed his brother holding the younger witch. “I’ll be owling Kingsley though, _ he _ definitely should’ve known better.”

“I hate to interrupt you both, but we’ve actually got a dragon to deal with still. We do have to go, Hermione.” 

“Yes, of course. Thanks again, Bill. See you soon.”

“See you later at the Burrow,” she heard Charlie call over his shoulder a moment before the familiar squeeze took her away to Wales.

When they arrived at the enclosure, the team had already put the crate in place and opened. They were just in time to see her revived. There were loud shouts from within the enclosure as the team had to be close enough to send the _ Ennervate _ with precision. As soon as it was cast, they hurried out and sealed the wards after them before the Ironbelly even realised where she was.

Hermione watched the dragon stand up slowly, shaking her head as if to try and rid herself of a pesky fly. She wondered if dragons got dizzy. Then she saw her take a deep breath, just like the one she escaped the bank on did in the past. Her first lung-full of fresh air in who knew how long. Then she stretched her wings and took off as high as the wards allowed her, which Charlie had explained earlier would be roughly 100 feet. And her eyes were clear, taking in her surroundings. The dragon wasn't blind.

“Hey, there’s no need for tears, she’s safe now,” Charlie whispered into her ear. Hermione reached up to wipe her cheek, surprised to find it wet. She hadn’t realised her eyes had leaked. 

“Just the wind, some dust,” she whispered back.

“Mhmm, thought so.” He elbowed her lightly, his mouth quirking up on one side. Hermione smiled back. “Now, would you be interested in a celebratory beverage at the local pub, Miss Granger?”

“Merlin, yes, I need a drink.” She huffed a laugh. “I really, really do.”

“Someone say drink? We’re all off duty since lunch. Shall we all go?”

Hermione stared at Jeremy and his team with wide eyes. “You did this in your spare time? For me?”

“Don’t be silly,” a stocky, dark-haired woman called out to her. Hermione thought her name was Miranda. “We did it for the dragon! First round’s on you, Granger.”

***

Hermione truly enjoyed herself that night. She laughed out loud at some of the stories Charlie and his friends’ recited that evening in the small local wizarding pub which was aptly named _ Tafarn Draig _, Welsh for Dragon Inn. She did indeed buy the first round, and added a couple of finger food platters, insisting it was the least she could do after what they’d done for her that day. 

She was content to sit back and let the conversation wash over her, sipping her warm butterbeer and relaxing for the first time in two weeks. Hermione leaned back against the wood-cladded wall behind her and closed her eyes for a moment. Space was tight at their little table and she was squished between Charlie and another guy called Robert who was local and had the most melodic Welsh accent. She could listen to him all night.

“Dyw, Charlie! Really?” 

“Aye. Been thinking about it for a while now.” Hermione felt him shift next to her, his arm brushing against hers. “Reckon it’s about time.”

“It’s a woman, innit?” She could hear Robert grinning and opened her eyes to find she was correct. 

“Yeah, isn’t it always?” Charlie quipped back, before taking a deep drink from his beer glass. Robert laughed. Hermione smiled at their banter.

“Alrigh’. Anyone we know?” Robert wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Charlie snorted.

“Yeah. My mum.” Hermione laughed with the others. Charlie turned to her and leaned in.

“Well, hello. Thought you went to sleep there for a moment. Glad to have you with us again.”

“I’ve not gone anywhere.” She quickly raised a hand to cover the yawn she couldn’t hold back. “‘M tired now, though. What time is it?”

“Just after 9, you lightweight,” Charlie chuckled. 

“Bill said I’d be exhausted. I hate that he was right.”

“I won’t tell him. C’mon, I’ll drop you home before you actually fall asleep here.” 

They said their goodbyes to everyone at the table and Hermione thanked them yet again for their help. As they turned to leave, Robert called after them, grinning.

“Night, Charlie, and goodnight, Charlie’s _ Mum!” _

Charlie replied with a rude hand gesture as Hermione laughed at the implication and shook her head. 

“So,” Charlie said when they were outside. “There’s a flaw in my plan. I don’t even know where you live, so I can’t bring you home. Tell me, where does the famous Miss Granger live these days?”

“London,” she replied as if that helped at all. She linked her arm with his and turned.

They appeared a short distance from her small flat on the border of Wandsworth and Richmond areas. Hermione directed him towards the Muggle building and pulled out her keys while she walked. Once inside, she led him up two flights of stairs and into her modest flat. 

It wasn’t until they stood in her small hallway that she had no idea what to do next. It felt similar to when she’d brought Daniel home with her the first time, after a date, only at the same time it felt vastly different. This was Charlie, after all, Ron’s brother, not some date she’d picked up.

Charlie stood next to her, his hands in his pocket, looking around while she hung up her jacket and handbag on the small coat rail next to the door. 

“So…,” she edged, shrugging her shoulders. “This is where Hermione Granger lives.” 

“It’s a nice hallway,” Charlie smirked at her. 

“Living room’s through there.” She pointed to his right. “Bathroom’s behind you.” She paused. “Do you want another drink?”

Charlie contemplated her for a moment and she wondered if it had been a mistake to ask him to stay. It was too familiar, too much like it had been with Daniel and she really didn’t want to think of that wanker right now. 

“Sure.” He shrugged off his own jacket and hung it up with hers, then excused himself to the loo while she went to get drinks from the kitchen. She grabbed two butterbeers from the fridge and opened them up. She was sitting on the sofa when Charlie joined her taking the offered bottle.

Hermione curled up on the couch, her legs under her. “So, is it true? You’re looking to move home?” 

“Yeah. There’s a position opening up in Wales and I’ve been interviewing. Got the job yesterday.” He played with the label on his bottle. “I missed being home.”

“Aw, so it is your mum you’re moving home for? Not another woman?” She tried to imitate Robert’s accent and failed miserably, making them both laugh.

“No, there’s no woman here waiting for me.” He chuckled darkly and Hermione wondered if there was something he didn’t say.

“So there’s a woman you’re running from?” she guessed quietly. Charlie took a sip of his beer and sighed. 

“No. I’m not running from anyone. Or maybe I am. I’ve… been seeing someone and let’s just say it didn’t end well. It’s better if one of us leaves and that would have to be me.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.” 

“Why does it have to be you? Leaving, I mean.”

“Because she’s local.”

“Ah.”

They sipped their drinks in silence for a few minutes. 

“We’re a sorry pair, aren’t we?” Charlie said, at length. “Both of us freshly dumped. Or did you do the dumping?”

“No, he did.” Hermione closed her eyes briefly. “He found someone else and strung me along for a while. When I confronted him about why he was out with Harry and some others when he told me he’d be out of town and couldn’t see me, he confessed that he’d been seeing someone else - some bint in the Auror department - and broke it off with me before I had the chance to dump him.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. How’d you get dumped?”

“I didn’t love her.” 

“Hm, so she was more serious?”

“Yeah. We’d been seeing each other for a couple months. We had fun, you know. A few dates, great sex, and then the other week she says ‘I love you’. And I couldn’t say it back.” He shrugged. “She didn’t react well.”

“I see.” She lifted her bottle to find it was empty. “Want another drink?”

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Miss Granger?”

“Ha. As if butterbeer would do that to you. Do you want another or not?” Hermione stood and waited, one hand on her hip. 

“Sure. Here.” He handed her his own bottle and she went to replace both of them. When she returned, she curled back up on the couch and sighed. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to grab the blanket on my way back.” She made to get up but he stayed her with a hand and got it for her. Hermione grinned as he snuggled her into it and didn’t resist when he pulled her into his side and shared the blanket with her.

“Better?” He smiled at her.

“Definitely. Very comfy.” Hermione laid her head on his shoulder. “Hand me the remote there, will you? Please?” When Charlie hesitated, she elaborated, “It’s the black rectangle with buttons on the end of the table there.”

He handed it over and Hermione flicked on her telly, something Charlie hadn’t seen before. They found a movie that had just started, something Hermione explained was called a chick-flick. After initial amusement, they watched as the unlikely couple in the story found their way together.

Sometime later, Hermione woke up to find the late-night news playing on the tv and Charlie softly snoring beside her. She carefully removed herself from his side and used her wand to summon a pillow from her bedroom. Then she nudged him to move and he mumbled incoherently at her but properly lay down on the couch. Hermione made sure he had the blanket over him and went to her bed.

***

Hermione tried to be quiet but she wasn’t quite fast enough to stop the kettle from whistling when the water boiled. A minute later, Charlie stood in her kitchen door, yawning and carding one hand through his slightly-too-long hair. He looked delicious all tousled and relaxed. Hermione blushed at her thoughts and turned back to preparing her tea.

“Morning.” She was glad her voice came out steady. 

“Morning, love.” Charlie’s voice was raspy from sleep, with deep notes that seemed too intimate this morning. 

“I’m making tea if you’d like some?” She still couldn’t turn to him. Goodness, if only she could figure out why seeing him this morning was so overwhelming! Hermione almost knocked the teapot over when his reply came from right behind her. 

“Sounds amazing. Thank you.” He put his hands on her hips and leaned over her shoulder to peck her cheek. “Thanks for last night.”

Hermione laughed, unable to stop her whole body from igniting at his closeness but understanding his teasing playfulness for what it was. If only she was as blasé about flirting as he was. 

“Anytime, darling,” she managed between giddy giggles like a clueless teenager and wishing she wasn’t as awkward. It hadn’t been awkward the night before, so why was it so different this morning?

Thankfully, by the time they sat at her small kitchen table and drank their tea and ate their toast, the awkwardness had dissipated again. They talked lightly about how strong George’s business was going now and that he was planning to open a second location in York in the near future.

“It’s wonderful to see how Wheezes is going from strength to strength,” Hermione agreed. 

“Absolutely. Who’d have thought it, back in the day? And now look: George is building such a successful business, Ron by his side. Ginny is doing amazing with the Harpies. She’ll play for England one day.” Charlie was glowing with pride.

“Do you ever regret it?”

“Not playing professional Quidditch?” She nodded. “No. Don’t laugh, I’m serious! I really don’t regret it one bit. Don’t get me wrong, it was exciting to be approached right out of Hogwarts to train for the National Team. Falcons and Wasps also offered starting positions. I love Quidditch, still live for the plays when we’re off on the reserve or at home. But professionally? It would’ve taken all the joy out of it for me. Dragons, now they need me. Seriously misunderstood creatures, did you know that?” 

Hermione burst out laughing. “You and Hagrid.” She shook her head, still grinning. “Only you and Hagrid would think that.”

“And yet you rescued one just yesterday,” he smiled. 

“Well, of course, that one wasn’t misunderstood, it was being mistreated and downright tortured.”

“You’re preaching to the converted, love.” Charlie winked at her and she blushed again. “I’ll make sure your dragon will stay safe.”

“Thanks, Charlie. When do you think she’ll be moved to Romania?”

“I don’t know. It will depend on many things. Her health, temperament, age… but don’t worry, she’ll be looked after.” 

“I’m glad.”

“Right, I better go. I did tell Bill I would be home last night. He was going to stay since Fleur and the kids are in France at the moment.”

“Oh! And I kept you here! Why didn’t you say something last night?” Hermione jumped up and began clearing the table. 

“What, and see my annoying older brother instead of spending a night with a pretty witch?” Charlie smirked and she swatted him with the wet rag she was using to wipe the table down. 

“You’re incorrigible, Charles.”

“No word of a lie,” he laughed and walked out to the hallway to get his coat. She threw the rag in the sink and dried her hands on a towel, then followed him.

“I’m back off to Romania tomorrow evening, after Sunday lunch with Bill, Mum, and Dad.” He patted his pockets and hummed when he found his wand in place. “I’ll owl you, yeah?” 

Hermione nodded and swallowed against a lump in her throat before she spoke. “Sure. Keep me updated on the dragon?”

“That, too. C’mere.” He opened his arms and drew her into a hug. _ C’mere. _ It was becoming a favourite thing she was hearing from him. She held him just as tightly, finding herself reluctant to let go. Maybe, she could… before she could think too much about it, she pulled back slightly to kiss his cheek. 

Their lips collided and a jolt went through her at the contact. Charlie’s lips were dry and warm, and then he muttered, “Fuck it,” and he was cradling her head and nipping at her bottom lip and she opened and moaned as their kiss deepened. 

Several breathless moments later, they broke apart, panting, their foreheads pressed together. 

“That was…”

“Yeah.” It was all Hermione could manage, her brain mush. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

He closed his arms around her once more and held her tight, his chin resting on her head. Hermione could hear his rapid heartbeat under her ear, knowing her own pulse was just as fast. What had just happened? Her whole body sang almost as if magic was running through her veins instead of blood. She almost imagined the ends of her fingers and hair to crackle with it, similar to when she received her first wand - the one with dragon heartstring core. 

“I have to go,” Charlie whispered into the silence between them. “I actually do. I’ve a few things to take care of before I go back.” He moved away from her and she let go. “I will owl you. I’ll be back for good in a month.” Charlie lifted a hand and put a strand of hair behind her ear. Her stomach flipped. 

“Yeah.” Hermione huffed on a breath. “I mean, okay. Yeah. Fine.” Why was she unable to form a proper sentence? Charlie seemed to think the same and a flirty smirk appeared on his handsome face. 

“Robbed you of your speech, have I?” He moved in close again and traced her cheek with his palm, his thumb tracing her lower lip. “Let me give some back to you.” This time, she was prepared, letting her eyes fall shut and savouring the gentle, almost chaste, kiss. 

“Go, Charlie,” Hermione mumbled against his lips as she pushed him towards the door. She was sure her face was on fire, she was blushing so much. She also couldn’t get this silly grin off her face and by the look of his own smug grin, he knew exactly how much he affected her. “I’ll see you in a month.”

“Glad you found words again. Bye, Hermione.”

“See you.” She waved after him as he slowly walked away, backwards, and then closed her door, leaning against it. What the hell was that? Hermione wasn’t exactly sure what had just happened, only that it had felt wonderful. She hoped it wouldn’t be awkward when Charlie returned in a month. She knew he was a flirt but damn, he was a damn fine kisser. And he made her own heartstrings sing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie's home ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. This is me, giving in to Peer Pressure. You asked for more and here it is! I hope this won't disappoint! 
> 
> After a lot of thought, I have included a small epilogue at the end of this chapter. I am not planning on doing any more of this story!
> 
> Thank you to all of you who showed this such incredible love. 
> 
> Also thank you to the wonderful NorahClark who lend a hand betaing this chapter!

The month after Charlie left for Romania to work his notice period and get his things in order, was simultaneously the longest and shortest month Hermione had lived through. The week immediately following the dragon rescue, she’d been floating on a funny little high. Replaying that kiss so often, she swore she could still feel his lips if she just closed her eyes and let her mind do its thing. 

She was reminded of it often enough those first few days. Not only because she herself daydreamed of it, but also because of work: filling in forms, updating her supervisor and putting together a report on the dragon. So many people asked about it that she couldn’t help but be reminded of Charlie at least three times a day.

It wasn’t until two full weeks had passed that an owl arrived with a letter from Charlie. When Hermione found the little owl waiting for her outside her apartment window, she had to take a few deep breaths to steady herself. Heart pounding wildly, she was irritated to find her fingers shaking as she undid the parchment from the bird’s leg. 

Hermione absentmindedly tossed a slice of ham to the owl and undid the parchment with undue haste. 

_ Hermione, _

_ Hope you’re doing well. It’s been a busy couple of weeks for me here, training in my replacement but   
all’s going to plan, so there’s no need to worry about me, love.  _

_ Your dragon’s here now. We’ve called her Hestia - after the Goddess of Hearth and Fire.   
She’s doing well though she’ll never be released. She’s going to be a permanent fixture at   
the reserve for the remainder of her life. She’ll do well though, supplying dragon scales as   
they naturally come off, paying her keep with them, so to speak. _

_ Mum owled to say there’s a welcome dinner the day I get back. Can’t wait to see everyone. _

_ I’ll see you there, yeah?  _

_ C. _

Hermione turned the page over, feeling silly even while she did it. There wasn’t anything else. She couldn’t help the lump forming in her throat, nor the feeling of utter disappointment. Why she had expected more, she wasn’t sure. She knew Charlie was an incorrigible flirt, seven years her senior, never short of a woman on his arm if he so wished. She knew because Molly, and even Bill at times, openly lamented his womanising ways. 

She was such an idiot for having had notions. Notions that she was different. She wanted to laugh, though all that escaped was an embarrassing sob followed by a blasted hiccup. What was her problem? It wasn’t that she was in love with Charlie. Far from it. But damn, for a moment, she allowed herself to believe that the attraction went both ways. Idiotic.

Determined, she threw another treat at the owl before callously using the back of Charlie’s letter to reply.

_ Charlie, _

_ Thank you for letting me know about Hestia.  _ _   
_ _ It’s a great name for her. _

_ I do expect that I will see you at the dinner, Molly has been talking about little else. _

_ H. _

She decided that she had been incredibly stupid. It was a kiss. Nothing else. Charlie, with his easy charm, was difficult to resist but still, it was just a kiss. What’s a kiss between friends, right? Hermione knew for a fact that nothing else would come of it and that Charlie had likely forgotten all about it. It hadn’t been significant, after all, in the grand scheme of things. 

Idiotic. Idiotic, idiotic, idiotic. Yet, she was still thinking about it. About that indeterminable time his lips moved against hers, their tongues dancing. His arms had held her tightly and her body reacted as if scorched. There had been butterflies in her past. With Victor, with Ron, with Daniel. With Charlie, there hadn’t been butterflies. It had been an entire zoo.

Merlin, how was it that a single kiss could turn her, a perpetually logical woman, into such an airhead? 

Hermione huffed at herself in annoyance and watched the owl disappear into the evening, deciding that she would put Charlie and his charm out of her head. She would see him at the dinner. She’d be polite, then she’d take herself and her dignity home and forget all about any further romantic involvement with him.

****

Hermione smiled to herself as she walked up the garden path to the Burrow. She was looking forward to catching up with Ginny who had just returned from another successful match the night before. She had said she had news. Hermione wondered what it was, whether it had to do with rumours she’d heard about Ginny trading active play for sports reporting in the Daily Prophet. 

Likewise, Hermione was craving a catch up with Ginny because she wanted to talk about the date she’d been on with Grant Page, a former Ravenclaw and now working in the Ministry in the Department of Magical Games and Sports. He’d been charming and funny, and just plain  _ nice _ .

As always, the sight of the Burrow filled her with warmth. Home. It had always been home to her, as much as Hogwarts, and - she had to admit to herself - even more so than her parents’ home. She barely knocked on the kitchen door before letting herself in and cheerfully greeting Molly who was busy rolling out dough on one end of the scrubbed wooden table. 

“Hermione, dear! Good to see you,” Molly called out with a warm smile on her face, not once stopping with her task. 

“Afternoon, Hermione,” Bill called out to her from his seat at the other end of the table, a mug of tea in his hands. She hadn’t expected him to be there today.

“Hi, Bill. How are you? How’s the family?” Hermione walked over to him and he stood to briefly hug her. 

“Family’s great. They’ll be over shortly, as well, to help mum prepare for tomorrow.” 

Hermione tried to keep her expression neutral, though Bill had always been very observant and, by the way he arched his brow, he saw right through her. She consciously unclenched her jaw and made her mouth form into a semblance of a smile. 

“Of course. I’d nearly forgotten.” Which, of course, was a big, fat, lie. No matter how much she’d been telling herself that it didn’t matter, that it was merely Ron’s brother coming home. A simple family dinner. One she’d thought about any time she didn’t make a conscious effort to distract herself. Oh, who was she kidding? Bill smirked at her. Clearly, she wasn’t fooling him either.

Footsteps on the stairs pulled her out of her reverie and she turned, happy to get away from Bill and finally getting to catch up with Ginny. When she looked up, however, her heart stopped. The redhead in front of her was blue-eyed, so freckled that he looked tanned, and definitely not due to arrive until tomorrow. Hermione tried to swallow but her mouth had gone completely dry. 

“Hermione,” Charlie called, grinning at her. He came to stand in front of her and scooped her up in his arms, twirling her around once before standing her back down. She still hadn’t found her voice, her stomach had relocated to somewhere near her throat, and her heart was beating out of her chest all of a sudden. 

“You’re here.”  _ Idiot _ , she scolded herself as she pointed out the obvious. 

“Nice to see you, too, love.” Charlie winked at her before nonchalantly going to pour himself a mug from the big teapot on the stove. Hermione wished she’d been prepared to see him. She could feel the heat creep up through her and she knew her face must be aflame. Merlin, she was pathetic. 

For the last two weeks, she’d been telling herself that she was good being single. Strong, independent, and in no need of a man in her life. She’d been determined not to let Charlie get under her skin. She’d had a plan. A plan to be courteous to him, without being too friendly. She was going to distance herself from him and pretend the kiss never happened. 

She’d gone as far as agree to a date with Grant, only to make a point to herself that she was single, free to see whomever. Hermione had planned what she would wear, and say - or not say.

The plan did not include a sudden appearance of  _ him  _ a day early, nor did it include her traitorous body reacting to him in such a fluster. Hermione tried to calm herself, looking at anything but Charlie which made her catch Bill’s eyes and she averted her gaze quickly, studying her shoes.

“Tea?” Charlie asked from where he stood by the stove. Hermione really wanted to just get away and order her thoughts that were whirling around her brain. Try as she might, she couldn’t come up with a good excuse not to accept a cup. She heard herself accept with a breathless, “Yeah, thanks.”

After putting the mug on the table in front of her, Charlie sat down opposite and raised an eyebrow at her, looking utterly amused. “You not gonna sit?”

“No! Yes! Of course.” She closed her eyes briefly and wondered when she’d last been that tongue-tied. Charlie apparently thought along the same lines.

“Lost your speech again?” he smirked at her. Hermione cleared her throat and went to sit down, crossing her arms tightly over her front. 

“Of course not. I’m just surprised, is all.” She was glad her voice sounded at least somewhat irritated. 

Molly, who had been quiet so far, closed the oven door on the buns she’d just made and said, “Charles, leave the poor girl be. We’ve all been in a tizzy since you arrived a day early - unannounced, may I add - not that we aren’t happy to have you back here, but a little notice would have gone a long way. You can’t expect everyone to wax lyrical about you, either.”

“Thanks, Mum, makes me feel so wanted.” He rolled his eyes but looked amused anyway until Molly started up again.

“Of course you’re wanted here. You know there’s always a place for you here. Truth be told we’d hoped you would’ve brought home a lovely girl.”

Hermione couldn’t help the small grin at Charlie’s tortured expression. Bill hid his own grin behind his mug of tea. It was well-known that Molly’s aim in life, besides having her children in respectable jobs, was to see them happily married and producing grandchildren for her to dote on. It appeared Charlie was the current target.

A part of Hermione was interested in what Charlie’s reply would be, a smidgeon of hope within her wishing he’d say something corny like ‘why would I bring a witch home when the perfect one for me is sitting right here?’ but she firmly told herself to get a grip. That crush she had on him was quite likely one-sided and she certainly needed to keep her head on straight. Whatever he did respond was lost to her, as Ginny had burst into the room, throwing her arms around Hermione and loudly declaring to everyone that she was going to steal her away from the kitchen.

Ginny unceremoniously dragged Hermione off her chair and into the garden, not stopping until they were in the far back of it, hidden among the orchard trees. Once there, Ginny stood and beamed at Hermione. Amused, Hermione returned her wide smile which quickly turned to concern when Ginny’s face fell only a second before the young woman had to turn away in a rush not to throw up on her friend.

“Ginny!” Hermione shook herself to action. “Come on, I’ll get you back inside and -”

“No!” Ginny straightened, pulled her wand out and vanished her sick, then used a quick cleaning charm on herself. “No, it’s good, I’m fine. Honest.” She looked at Hermione with another smile. Hermione wasn’t sure if Ginny hadn’t been hit with a bludger the previous evening at the Harpies match for her to be so happy about vomiting. 

“I have to tell you something. You can’t repeat this to anyone. Swear you won’t!” Ginny waited until Hermione did so. “I’m pregnant.” 

“You… oh, Ginny, that’s wonderful!” Hermione went to hug her friend, though hesitated at the last moment, lest she would be sick again. Ginny laughed and closed the distance between them. “Congratulations, Ginny. I’m so happy for you!”

When she let go, Hermione’s smile fell from her face. “You flew in the match last night! Are you mental? Do you realise what you risked? You-”

“I know, I know! Hermione, I know! Except, I didn’t know, did I? Only found out this morning.” Ginny leaned against the tree behind her. “I’m going to have a baby,” she added in a surprised voice.

“How’s Harry? Is he as happy? I hope he is. I know he wanted this for a while.” 

“I haven’t told him yet. He’s on assignment until tomorrow. I just had to tell someone, so I went here since I knew you were going to be here and oh Merlin, Hermione, I can’t tell anyone until I’ve sorted myself out. I’ll need to go onto the reserve team until we can figure out my maternity leave and it’s still so early and I don’t know if I want everyone to know because the bloody Prophet will be hounding us again and how am I going to do this?” 

With a dramatic sigh, Ginny slid down the tree trunk she’d been leaning against. 

“Oh Ginny, it’ll be fine you’ll see! It’s so exciting.”

“What’s exciting?”

Ginny scrambled up to stand again at Charlie’s voice, just as he came to a stop next to Hermione who pressed her lips into a thin line. 

“Mind your own business, Charles,” Ginny grumbled. “Need to know basis, and you do not need to know. Why don’t you go back in to mum? She’s been looking forward to your being here so much, you might want to go speak to her.” 

“Oh c’mon Gin, don’t send me back in there, she’s trying to set me up on dates. I’m not even officially home yet and she’s trying to play matchmaker already.” 

Hermione wished she hadn’t been looking at him as he spoke. Her face felt warm at his blatant opposition to commitment and the quick glance he’d shot in her direction as he spoke to Ginny didn’t fill her with confidence. She suddenly wanted to get away and sent an apologetic look to Ginny as she made her excuses.

“I really need the loo. Sorry guys, I’ll be…” Hermione trailed off as she all but ran back to the house. Instead of the loo though, she took off around the house once she was out of sight and disapparated home as soon as she cleared the wards.

  
  


***

She was running out of time. If she didn’t hurry now, she’d be late to the Burrow. Annoyed with herself, Hermione picked up the facecloth and scrubbed her face clean. Why was she even bothering with make-up? It wasn’t as if she’d normally wear any. Screwing her eyes up in humiliation she scolded herself firmly that she shouldn’t paint the gloop on herself just to catch his eye. 

Before she could try and paint her eyes again, she grabbed her wand and concentrated on her destination. Almost immediately, she was accosted by several people who exclaimed that they’d feared she wouldn’t come since normally she was first to arrive. Hermione laughed it off and excused herself to the loo to catch her breath. 

Charlie looked delicious in his blue shirt. Wherever he found it, she was sure it bordered on indecent the way his muscular arms looked barely restrained in it.

Hermione heard Molly announce loudly that dinner was ready just as she emerged from the bathroom. Thank Merlin. Not only because she was quite famished, but also because she was looking forward to catching up with Ginny and Ron and Harry. The four of them usually sat close to each other so they could chat easily. It would give her a much-needed respite from the onslaught that Charlie caused her frayed nerves.

Smiling, she walked through the kitchen into the garden where Arthur had set up an extra-long table for the occasion. She quickly scanned over the set-up only to find that, while she was indeed seated opposite Harry and Ginny, and next to Ron on her left, the man to her right was none other than Charlie. She groaned inwardly and plastered a smile to her face before sitting down.

Molly had outdone herself. The feast she’d whipped up surpassed even the lavish welcome feast at Hogwarts. For the first few minutes, conversation was sparse as everyone tucked in, the common denominator being sounds of utter delight at the food they ate. Hermione closed her eyes, savouring the creamy, buttery flavour of her simple mashed potatoes when his elbow brushed against her arm. 

She swallowed thickly and moved a little towards Ron who was shovelling food into his mouth like it was going out of fashion. Ginny stared at her brother disapprovingly, then leaned towards Harry only to speak to him in a stage whisper. 

“No wonder Ron’s single. You’d think he grew up feral, the way he’s attacking the food.”

Ron’s ears turned red and his fork was left suspended half-way between his plate and his mouth as Harry cracked a grin. “I’m not apologising for liking Mum’s food,” he growled around a mouthful of carrots. The gravy-soaked mash dripped off his fork and splatted back onto the rim of his plate with an audible squelch.

Hermione bit her lip in order to not laugh at Ginny’s smug expression. She averted her eyes only to be met with George’s outrageous grin. Hermione had seen that look on George before. She put down the glass of wine she’d just picked up. Best to wait and see what would happen to everyone else before she took a sip.

Just as she went back to her food, Charlie’s knee brushed against hers under the table. Hermione stiffened and shot an irritated glance at the man next to her but his attention was solely on Angelina to his right, with whom he appeared to be in deep conversation about Quidditch.

Now that the first appetite was satiated, conversations sprang up all around her. For a moment, she merely enjoyed the low chatter, letting it wash over her without hearing what was said. Then, Ginny’s voice amplified in her ears.

“Hermione,” Ginny sang while waving a hand up and down. Hermione focussed on her friend. “There you are, welcome back!” Ginny grinned. “You dreaming of the sexy Grant? I asked you how your date went!”

“Oh!” Hermione could feel several pairs of eyes on her, not to mention the wizard to her right had gone quite still as well. She didn’t dare look in his direction. “It went fine, I guess. It was nice.” 

“Nice,” Ginny repeated in a flat voice. “Details, woman! What do you mean by  _ nice _ ?”

“You gonna see him again?” Ron asked, not waiting for an answer to Ginny’s question. 

“You should, dear,” Molly said, immediately latching on to the idea of Hermione finding herself a man. “I have heard many good things about him. Very responsible and upstanding, I believe.”

“Quite right, my dear,” Arthur added. “He is a very courteous young man. You both would make a striking pair.” 

Hermione was quite aware by now that her face resembled the colour of ripe tomatoes. 

“So?” Ginny demanded. Hermione decided it was probably better to head the lot of them off. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Grant. He was nice. There hadn’t been a spark between them though. Not even a faint flicker of one.

“We’ll see,” she settled on in the end. “I don’t see the need to rush into anything.”

“You’ll see him again though,” Molly insisted, rather than asked.

“I’m sure I will,” Hermione said, thinking that it wasn’t even a lie - after all, they both worked at the Ministry and it was inevitable that she’d  _ see  _ him there. Molly, apparently satisfied, sat back with a wide smile on her face and lifted her wine goblet, giving Arthur a speaking glance. Her husband also picked up his and stood, clearing his throat. 

“Charlie. Welcome home, my boy. Everyone else, thank you for being here to welcome our Charlie home with us. To Charlie.” He lifted his wine in salute and took a sip. 

Collectively, they lifted their own drinks but waited to see if anything would happen to Arthur first. They had learned after the last family meal, when George had spiked the punch with a new product that made everyone squeak like mice when they tried to talk. It had been experimental at that point and three people had been so receptive, they hadn’t stopped squeaking for two days, meaning they had to call in sick to work.

“Go on, drink up!” Arthur urged, taking a shallow bow to show nothing untoward had happened to him. The table at large began snickering and everyone else, bar Hermione - and George, she was unsettled to see - finally drank.

“George, what did you put in the drink?” Hermione asked loudly. 

“Nothing much, you’ll see,” was his cheeky reply, just as the whole party erupted in a cacophony of animal sounds. Clearly no longer satisfied with simple mouse squeaks, it appeared a whole zoo had been invited to dinner. 

Next to her, Charlie opened his mouth to laugh but the only sound escaping him was a dragon’s roar, which made him laugh harder, and the roar louder, drowning out the timid barking to Hermione’s left - a clear imitation of a West Yorkshire Terrier. 

Harry’s deer bellows were drowned out by Ginny’s neighing next to him. Percy literally  _ hooted  _ with laughter while his mother clucked like the Mother Hen she was. 

Hermione shook her head, laughing at Fleur’s embarrassed expression when her laugh turned out to be the bray of a donkey. Bill made a sound that had Hermione clutch the sides of her - he sounded like Chewbacca from the Star Wars movies she’d watched with her parents. She vaguely thought of looking up which actual animal that might have belonged to. 

Furthermore, a hyena, a monkey, a whale and several more native species joined the chorus for the next quarter-hour. One by one, the effect wore off to everyone’s great relief. Hermione, quite thirsty by now, vanished her wine and went to open an entirely new bottle, then passed it along the table. 

“Ah c’mon,” Charlie murmured, leaning into her just as she took a sip. “Weren’t you at least curious to see what animal he had for you?” 

His deep voice did things to her that she wished it didn’t. Goosebumps raced down her arms and she fought hard to suppress a shiver. She plastered a grin on her face though.

“Hey George, what animal was I going to be had I drunk it?” she called over to the prankster in question.

“You’d have hissed like a snake!” he answered as if it had been the most obvious thing in the world. At Hermione’s surprised look, he added, “It was the closest thing to a worm, ya bookworm.” George shrugged his shoulders with a chuckle. Hermione shook her head at him.

“There you go, now you know what I would’ve sounded like,” she informed Charlie unnecessarily and immediately wished she hadn’t turned towards him because he was way too close for comfort, and did she imagine it, or had his eyes briefly flicked to her mouth as she spoke? She quickly straightened and fiddled with the napkin in her lap, folding and unfolding it with great concentration.

Much to her relief, Charlie let himself be pulled back into Quidditch talk and she concentrated on catching up with Ron and Harry, doing her best not to let on that she knew about Ginny’s pregnancy. Hermione’s eyes widened and she looked from Ginny’s wine to the witch and back, biting her tongue in order to not ask why she was drinking if she was expecting - and then she stared at George, wondering if the product he’d used was safe in pregnancy. She’d nearly blurted it out, too. Instead, Hermione resolved to make sure to ask in private, later. Not much to be done about it now, anyway, she reasoned with herself. 

Once the dinner was cleared and desserts aplenty were put in front of them all, it had turned into an even more relaxed gathering. Hermione enjoyed listening to the friendly banter around her and closed her eyes in appreciation when she took yet another spoonful of the decadent triple chocolate brownie.

Feeling a hand at her spine snapped her eyes open. Charlie leaned back, a mug of tea in his right hand, his left arm across the back of her chair. His thumb was rubbing lazy circles on her while he easily held a conversation with Percy and Bill across from him. 

Her breath caught and she accidentally inhaled a crumb of brownie causing her to cough violently. Charlie’s hand came to her back fully, lightly patting her. Several voices asked if she was okay while her eyes watered and she choked out, “Water.”

A glass was pressed to her lips.She grasped it, and the hand around it, in both of hers, taking eager sips and trying desperately not to choke on those as well. Charlie chuckled into her ear and murmured, “Smooth.”

She wanted to hex him. And kiss him. 

Merlin, he overwhelmed her without even trying. She was sure she was out of her depth with him and barely able to tread water, never mind navigate whatever this was. 

By the time she had recovered her wits, he had already returned to his conversation and she sat up straighter, making a renewed effort to pay attention to her friends.

***

They’d relocated to the Burrow’s cosy sitting room. Hermione sat on the couch, next to Ginny who sleepily cuddled into Harry. Poor Harry, who still didn’t know that he’d be a dad before long. Hermione smiled wistfully at the couple and wished, not for the first time, that she’d find the same connection with someone. 

Unbidden, her eyes drifted to Charlie who was engaged in a chess game with his older brother. As she watched, she heard Bill call out, “Check,” with a big grin. 

Molly and Arthur had long since retired, Fleur had taken Victoire home, and Ron was quietly talking with George - no doubt about a new product. 

Hermione yawned and excused herself quietly in order to use the toilet. It was time for her to leave, too, she thought. 

As she opened the bathroom door, she gave a helpless squeak when she was unceremoniously shoved back into the small room. The door closed and she was pushed up against it, Charlie’s mouth instantly claiming hers, Hermione’s arms trapped between their bodies.

All the reservations, objections, logic and reasons she’d talked herself into went straight out of her brain. He engulfed her. His arms, his scent - oh how she loved his rich, earthy scent, part aftershave, part just him. Much as she had told herself she wouldn’t let him near her like this, she held nothing back.

Hermione wriggled her arms out and reached up, encircling her arms around his neck and holding him close. Charlie’s mouth began to wander across her cheek, down her neck and back up to her ear. She shivered.

“You tease,” Charlie murmured into her ear, playfully nipping her lobe. “You went on a date.”

“How does that make me a tease?” she asked, then let out an almost embarrassing moan when he kissed a particularly sensitive spot on her neck. Instead of an answer, he just continued kissing her, his hands pulling her ever closer and exploring her bum and back. 

“Did he kiss you like this?” 

Hermione shook her head. “No, he didn’t kiss me at all.”

“Good.” His mouth claimed hers, his lips all but bruising hers. After a long moment, he pulled back with a curse, both his hands on either side of her face, holding her steady. “I don’t share, Hermione.”

“Neither do I, but I’m not yours, am I?” Hermione whispered back at him. She wasn’t going to be his plaything for whenever the mood struck him. She was worthy of better.

“Aren’t you?” Charlie nipped at her lips again, but she turned her head away. His hands fell to his sides. “You don’t want to be with me.” It wasn’t a question. Hermione closed her eyes.

“I don’t want to be your rebound for that woman at the reserve,” she said at length. “I don’t want to be your entertainment until you tire of me and then move on to the next person. I’m tired of dating and being used because I’m convenient.”

“You think I’m using you? Merlin, there’s nothing convenient about you. You do realise if I had intended to play with you, as you put it, I’d have the wrath of my entire family after me? I’ve been watching you for years, Hermione. Years. This isn’t new.”

Hermione stared at him, wide-eyed, unable to take in what he was telling her. It couldn’t be true. Her mouth worked around consonants and vowels that simply wouldn’t manifest. Helpless, she watched as Charlie’s grin slowly grew to that resembling a Cheshire Cat. 

“I see you’ve lost your speech again,” he murmured and leaned in, not quite closing the gap, his eyes holding hers. “Give me a chance, Hermione.”

Her head swam, their breaths mingling. Wasn’t this what she’d fantasized about for the past month? Charlie was offering her fantasy on a silver platter. She swallowed and cleared her throat.

“I don’t share either,” she said thickly. “If I give you this chance, we’ll go slow.”

This time, he didn’t hesitate. With a growl that sounded alarmingly like, “mine,” he covered her mouth with his in a way that curled Hermione’s toes in her shoes. 

  
  


******

**Epilogue**

Hermione smiled as she watched Charlie bounce his four-month-old nephew James on his knee, making swooshing noises and telling the baby all about how he, his uncle, would teach him to ride a broom and not the boy’s dad. 

“Hero that your dad undoubtedly is, I’m still the better flyer,” he told him smugly.

“Don’t you think between Ginny and Harry they’ll manage?” Hermione asked, amusement evident in her voice. 

“Ah, but I’ll be the fun uncle.”

“Of course.” Hermione tried to keep the sarcasm out of her tone but failed to keep her face straight as she walked over to the two. “It will be a long time anyway before James will be allowed anywhere near a broom, so there’s no need to plan lessons just yet.”

“Speaking of how long… how long do you think we should let them sleep?” Charlie asked, nodding his head towards the staircase which led to Harry and Ginny’s bedroom. They were babysitting James in an effort to give the young parents some much-needed rest. 

“Give them the night off. Ginny left expressed milk in case he gets hungry. There’s enough until the morning.”

“C’mon then,” Charlie said, getting up and holding James close. “Pack his bag and we’ll take him with us.”

***

The next morning saw a decidedly more awake looking couple stare down at an exhausted Hermione, fast asleep next to Charlie with James babbling to himself between them. 

“Suits them, doesn’t it?” Ginny asked.

“What, James?” Harry asked, bemused.

_ “A _ baby. Not ours. They can make their own.” They grinned at each other and Ginny continued in a whisper. “I’m so glad Hermione gave in.”

“What do you mean?” 

“She was so afraid they wouldn’t last. Now look at them.”

Harry looked at his wife instead. ”How long do you think we should let them sleep?”

“Oh, leave them be.” Ginny leaned over and picked up a contented James. “I missed you, little man. Especially my boobs did. I hope you’re hungry.” She winced as James smacked his arm off her full breast. “Oh, you better be hungry.”

Together, the three of them quietly left Hermione’s apartment.

Charlie put his arm around Hermione and pulled her close to him, spooning her. 

“They weren’t as quiet as they thought they were,” he muttered into her hair. 

“Mmhmm,” she replied. 

“Were you really that afraid?”

“Mhh I was, before.”

“No more reservations?”

“None. I love you and I’m not letting you go.” Hermione turned and kissed him on the lips. “You do know you are stuck with me, right?”

“Mhh, I love you, too. Never been as happy to be stuck.”

“You should probably move in. You know, officially.”

“You sure?"

“When’s the last time you were in your own flat, Charlie?” 

He grinned. “Good point. D’you know what another good point is? They’re right. I’d like one of those.”

“Hmm? One of what?” 

Charlie’s hand traced her side, her hip, her thigh before lightly rubbing her abdomen. “A baby. I’d like one of those.”

Hermione started at that, her eyes searching his. “Really? Even after last night? Have you already forgotten how little sleep we had?”

He chuckled at her. “I didn’t forget. But imagine the fun we’ll have making him.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He kissed her nose. “Hours of practising.”

“That’s a lot of talk, Mr Weasley.” Hermione smirked up at him.

“I’ve always been more of an action man, Miss Granger,” he growled and proceeded to be just that.


End file.
